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Now reading: Chapter 2396 - 2391: The Prophet Is Dead (Part 2) from Facing an Ancient God for a Year, a Supernatural novel by Journey to the West's Revolver.

Midnight ghost story, a ghostly carriage?

One must admit, the scene before us is a bit too classic, swiftly turning toward the style of a horror film.

From this angle, you can see, the visibility outside is indeed low, and the night is profoundly dark.

anwhile, the overcast sky shows no stars or moon, with only faint light sources from surrounding buildings illuminating the area.

In this environnt, riding a carriage alone creates a full-bodied atmosphere.

Then, in this end-of-the-line bus-like scene, there’s unexpectedly another driverless last bus following behind, step by step, always trailing there...

In this critical mont, the carriage unexpectedly broke down...

And as you find yourself stranded here, the driver shows no reaction. When you decide to check what happened, you’re horrified to find the driver already bleeding from all seven orifices...

It must be said, if Brother Clown made his entrance in such a technically impressive manner, it would certainly leave a more profound impression.

Unfortunately, in Fu Qian’s anticipation, even when the black sludge was flowing from the ears of the coachman, almost saturating his entire upper body, there was still no sign of that familiar figure appearing.

The only gain was the strong Unseen Hillock vibe felt from the streetsides.

It definitely is that old place, though he shouldn’t have been to this spot before.

Furthermore, though it seems sowhat deserted, this "bustling city" still appears to function well, without obvious signs of ravage, nor any crumbling ruins.

Where’s the dust?

This fallback query seems to face a slight setback as well.

Fortunately, Fu Qian never had overly idealistic thinking habits, thus he wouldn’t feel any sense of loss.

anwhile, Unseen Hillock didn’t leave him waiting long.

While the black sludge enveloped the coachman, the mire under the carriage wheels had already ascended, devouring half of the carriage.

Clip, clop!

Those changes occurred silently, yet the strange sounds eventually erged.

The unmanned vehicle trailing behind was slowly moving in amid the hoofbeats.

Most crucial was with every step forward, the carriage’s color seed to darken, quickly gravitating toward the black sludge.

An unusual pungent sll grew more intense alongside.

...

It’s more like a horror story.

Did the carriage stop because it beca the predator’s target?

The black mire on the ground couldn’t be blad on the road authorities, but rather, it appeared suddenly as a tily trap to halt progress?

This explains why it’s strangely viscous since it wasn’t ordinary mud?

Everything was a feeding thod from the vehicle behind, and now feeding ti has arrived.

Not deliberately anthropomorphic description, Fu Qian noticed for a mont the two horses leading the way were dissolving into the sa viscous material.

Rapidly losing their original shape, as they stretched and tore, the forr muscles and bones seed to assemble into a devouring hole, gnawing towards the cabin.

Highlighting the figure quietly seated inside, seemingly petrified with vulnerability and helplessness...

Sizzle, sizzle—

Yet this classic horror story inevitably t setbacks.

As if countless invisible blades sliced through, converting the trailer structure into a full-haul configuration with connection points, the black viscous matter was torn piece by piece, the entire process forcibly delayed.

This sudden shift undeniably had its dramatic flair, like a superhero showing up in a critical mont, under whose auspices the situation finally turned around.

Perhaps it remains thrilling, albeit the horror atmosphere was sowhat reduced.

Moreover, there’s a minor issue where those invisible blades didn’t aim quite accurately, instead displaying a kind of indiscriminate strike.

While the black sludge was ripped apart, the luxuriously adorned real carriage instantly beca shaky—but didn’t collapse.

As an onlooker witnessing the whole scene, Fu Qian remained seated calmly.

Even the brass ashtray before him got sliced, losing a corner from such an assault.

"Finally, I’ve been waiting for you."

And amid this chaos to silence shift, a voice echoed from above.

...

If not for the significantly deeper timbre, it would almost make one think the previous speculation ca true, Brother Clown did use a different welcoming thod, finally showing up.

The voice not only ca from the rooftops, but even the actions perford before and after are quite alike, targeting transport tools for sabotage, all while disregarding the passengers inside.

In the present scenario, Fu Qian cos to the conclusion that the voice is unfamiliar, purely a stranger.

Moreover, the thod is rather decent, sharper than the Clown’s billboards.

As for that last statent, it seems not ant for him.

Although the subsequent utterance does fit him as the audience without discord.

"I don’t know what you are, but if you think you can act unchecked, then you’re gravely mistaken."

The voice remained forceful, and you could discern the source rapidly approaching, soon standing ahead of both vehicles’ path.

Upon lifting eyes to gaze, one finds that figure does not quite match the grand entry sound effects.

A bit lean, wearing a battered trench coat, with long ssy hair and a striking hooked nose, illuminated by the green light from nearby signs, accompanying an increasingly eerie vibe.

One could easily conclude if encountered during nightti walks, most people would instinctively take a detour.

"Do you wonder why there are still vehicles out so late? Factually, you lack a brain, rely driven by the urge to devour, you fool."

As the newcor strides closer, their self-narration becos more terrifying upon closer reflection.

Instead of a horror story, was it a baiting operation?

Was this vehicle bait?

This throwaway stance indeed aligns with that notion.

Click!

At that mont, Fu Qian still remained unmoved, yet his body suddenly plunged.

"Trying to flee?"

Amid the newcor’s cold sneer, the entire vehicle was twisted and deford.

The wheel trapped in mud, along with its black portion, was compressed as well.

This resulted in a thoroughly distorted cabin, losing any privacy, allowing direct viewing of the rear while seated.

Revealing the ghostly carriage forrly trailing, now entirely lost its shape, turning into a giant black mass, its pungent odor was intoxicating.

Despite no verbal response, the mass didn’t remain motionless, instead exhibited animalistic struggle, seemingly attempting to seep underground.

Unfortunately, the carriage initially ant to be swallowed now seed wedged like a wedge stuck in the throat, firmly pinning it there.

Boom!

Even the next mont saw a special impact descending forcefully on it, splattering a fierce "mud tidal wave".

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